Put God First: Stop Delaying Obedience | Haggai 1:1–8

Last time, I gave you an overview of the Book of Ezra so we'd have a foundation for understanding Haggai. You might remember we read Ezra 4:24, which says the work on the house of God stopped for sixteen years — and then, in the very next verse, Ezra 5:1 says Haggai and Zechariah began prophesying, and the people got back to work. I told you then that you were probably wondering what Haggai actually said to get people working again after sixteen years. This is the morning we start finding out. For the next several weeks, we're going to walk verse by verse through the Book of Haggai, and this morning we begin with the sermon that restarted a stalled nation — a sermon that, at its core, is about learning to put God first instead of putting Him off. https://youtu.be/d3JfYBOv33Y Table of ContentsThese Were Mature, Godly PeopleHaggai 1:1 — Who Received the WordLesson One: God Graciously Speaks to Us Even After Years of NeglectLesson Two: Delayed Obedience Often Disguises Itself as "Not the Right Time"Haggai 1:3–4 — Paneled HousesConsider Your WaysLesson Three: When God Is Not First, Even Good Pursuits Become FrustratingHaggai 1:8 — Go Up and BuildLesson Four: God Is Glorified by the Priorities We Practice, Not Merely the Priorities We ProfessConclusion: Consider Your Ways These Were Mature, Godly People Before we read a single verse, you need to know something about the Jews this book is written to. They're going to look pretty bad for starting the temple and then stopping for sixteen years — but they were mature, godly people. Remember, last time we looked at Ezra 2:64, which said there were only 42,360 people in the first return — about 2% of the Jewish population. The other 98% wanted to stay in Persia, where they'd lived for decades and built lives, businesses, and families. The Persians were sufficiently favorable toward the Jews to allow this small remnant to return and rebuild. Consider what returning actually meant: A roughly 900-mile, four-month journey back to Jerusalem — long, unpleasant, and dangerous. Leaving behind most of their friends and family, since so few chose to go. Walking away from established businesses and lives after seventy years in Babylon. Returning to a monumental building project in a city with no homes, no walls, and no defenses. No material resources, many enemies, and land still in the possession of another empire. These Jews had a heart for God. And here's the application: if what we're about to read can happen to Jews who were serious about their faith, it can happen to even the most mature Christians too. Haggai 1:1 — Who Received the Word Haggai 1:1 — In the second year of Darius the king, in the sixth month, on the first day of the month, the word of the Lord came by the hand of Haggai the prophet to Zerubbabel the son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, and to Joshua the son of Jehozadak, the high priest. Notice who receives the word: the governor and the high priest — the civil leader and the spiritual leader. When God wants to move a people, He typically begins with their leaders. The date given — "the second year of Darius the king, in the sixth month, on the first day of the month" — is August 29, 520 BC, exactly when we read last time that Haggai started preaching (Ezra 4:24). The first day of the month was the new moon, a feast day when the people gathered together (Numbers 10:10). God delivered this message on the day the maximum number of people would hear it. Lesson One: God Graciously Speaks to Us Even After Years of Neglect The Jews returned to Jerusalem for one purpose. Cyrus's decree wasn't "go re-occupy the land" — it was go rebuild the house of the Lord (Ezra 1:3). That was the mission. And for sixteen years, the mission sat abandoned while everyone got on with life. If God had stayed silent for another sixteen years, no one could have accused Him of injustice. If He'd sent another Nebuchadnezzar, they could hardly have been surprised — that's what happened the last time the people ignored Him for decades. But remember how last week's message ended: He didn't send an army or a new king. He sent preachers with His Word. God's gracious first move toward a people who had neglected Him for sixteen years was to speak to them. He clearly hadn't given up on them. There's a real application here. Maybe you stopped going to church for years. You always meant to go back, but the longer you stayed away, the more awkward walking through the doors felt. Maybe you haven't really prayed in longer than you can remember, or you can't recall the last time you opened your Bible on your own — and "someday" has slowly turned into "probably never." Maybe you haven't served in years, like you know you should. Or maybe the sixteen years is something you've been doing rather than neglecting: pornography that's had a grip on you so long you can't remember life without it; alcohol that started as a way to unwind and became a habit, and then a master; anger that's been your reflex for so many years your family flinches before you speak; bitterness toward someone who hurt you long ago, a decision to never forgive that's been calcifying ever since, until you've simply accepted, "It's too late to be free of this. This is just who I am now." If any of that applies to you, see where these people were when God spoke to them: the sixteen-year mark. And notice that God's first word to them was not "You're done" or "You had your chance." The message was basically, get up and get going. God broke through sixteen years of silence with His Word 2,500 years ago, and He does the same thing today. If you're at all convicted right now, that conviction is evidence that He hasn't given up on you. Conviction is not rejection. Conviction is an invitation to repent. Lesson Two: Delayed Obedience Often Disguises Itself as "Not the Right Time" So what did Haggai actually say? Haggai 1:2 — Thus says the Lord of hosts: "These people say the time has not yet come to rebuild the house of the Lord." Notice how carefully the people worded this. No one in that community was going to stand up and announce they were against the temple. So they reached for something that sounds far more reasonable: "It's not the right time." This is one of the most useful excuses ever invented, because it lets us say no while sounding like we're only saying "later." We can't bring ourselves to say we shouldn't go to church, or read our Bibles, or serve, or give. So we don't say that. Instead, we say it isn't the right time. We'll get to it... someday. Listen to how it actually sounds coming out of our mouths: "I'll get serious about church once this busy season at work calms down." "Once the kids are a little older and out of this stage, we'll start doing family devotions." "When we're more financially stable, then we'll start giving." "After the house situation gets sorted out, I'll have the margin to serve." "I'll start sharing my faith once I know the Bible a little better." Every one of these sounds responsible. Some even sound spiritual. But every single one is waiting on a future that never quite arrives — the busy season just gets replaced by the next busy season, the kids hit the next stage and then the stage after that, and the finances never feel quite settled. "Not right now" is almost never a decision to do it later; it's a way of saying no without feeling like we said no. Here's what makes this account so interesting: from where the people were standing, it seemed very reasonable. They'd come back to a wasteland. The walls were down. Homes had to be built, fields cleared and planted, defenses raised in a city that couldn't protect itself. If you'd asked one of the Jews, "Why isn't the temple finished?" he wouldn't have looked at you with contempt — he'd have looked at you like you didn't understand how much there was to do. "Of course, we want to rebuild the house of God. It's just — look around. We can't do it yet. But next year." And every one of us knows that feeling, because we're not against church, or prayer, or giving, or serving. It's just — look at the season we're in. We can't do it yet. Notice what filled the gap. The Jews didn't do nothing for sixteen years. They built their houses, planted their fields, and ran their own lives. That's exactly how it works for us. We rarely stop serving God to do nothing. We stop serving God because something else — often something good and legitimate — crowds in and takes the place that belonged to Him. The danger is rarely a dramatic rebellion. The danger is poor priorities. So let me ask: what have you stopped doing that God would have you do? Whenever we cease doing the things we know God wants, we always think we're stopping for a short time. Nobody ever thinks they're stopping for sixteen years. But that's exactly what can happen. Haggai 1:3–4 — Paneled Houses Now watch God ask them a question: Haggai 1:3–4 — Then the word of the Lord came by the hand of Haggai the prophet, "Is it a time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses, while this house lies in ruins?" They said, "It's not time." God said, "You found time... to work on your houses." And notice it doesn't just say dwell in your houses — it says dwell in your paneled houses. A paneled house is a nice house with woodwork on the walls. They hadn't just completed their houses; they'd gone beyond that to make them sort of fancy. Let me be clear: money is amoral. Scripture never condemns people for having wealth, and God Himself made many people in Scripture wealthy. This isn't a passage about wealth being wrong — if someone used it to condemn having a fancy house, they'd be ripping it out of context. This is a passage about priorities. God wasn't upset with them for having paneled houses; He was upset with them for having their priorities out of order....